


Lost and Found

by TheLanternWretch



Category: League of Legends
Genre: Folk Hero, Freljord, Nunu - Freeform, One Shot, The heart of the freljord, Wilhelm - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-10
Updated: 2019-03-10
Packaged: 2019-11-14 20:19:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,465
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18059384
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheLanternWretch/pseuds/TheLanternWretch
Summary: Yuka, a young boy in the Freljord, wanders a little too far from his mother in the forests in the snowy Freljord. Thankfully, someone makes sure he returns home.





	Lost and Found

**Author's Note:**

> Just a little one-shot I did of a favorite League character of mine that I haven't tired writing yet. I needed something wholesome to write, and there really isn't anyone more wholesome than this guy, really.

The howling winds brought nothing but icy shivers down the young boy’s spine. Small, thick mittens pulled the furs around him closer to his skin as he trudged through the snow that easily came up to his stomach. The weather in the Freljord was always treacherous – even in the summers where the snow melted, and some things would grow. But for each mildly cool summer they had, the winter would always come just as unforgiving as the one before it, wiping out all traces of life and encasing the world in a sheet of ice. Only the strongest of the tribes survived, the ones stubborn enough to not let the cold take them, and in order to live on, they had to rely on each other. While the civil war between the sisters raged on, the people flourished however they could either from establishing villages to becoming nomads and traveling to meet the fair weather, wherever it fell. 

Still, those were taken by the cruel lands of the Freljord regardless. Yuka was finding that out the hard way. It had been just another day with him and his mother, Aput. She laced up his boots and the two of them grabbed a basket and headed out to gather some wood for their fires and some of the late cloudberries that were just about to wither away as their season ended. Foolishly, Yuka wandered away, following the path of bushes that lead him away from his mother while she worked at a fallen log with a hatchet. It was only when he got far enough away that he could no longer each the thud of the metal on wood that he looked up. He had no idea where he was and only had a few handfuls of orange berries to show for it.  
“Mom?” He called out, nervously. “Aaka?” He called a little louder as his stomach started scrunching up with nerves. All the trees looked the same around him, and the wind erased his tracks he left behind within seconds as the powdered snow filled in the ruts as though the blanket of white hadn’t been disturbed. The young boy picked a direction and ran, weaving in and out of trees as we kept calling out for his parent, hoping that perhaps someone would answer. Yet, as he kept running, he felt as though he were going in the wrong direction. There were less trees chopped down, there were full berry bushes unbothered by others of his tribe, and there was a sense of untamed wild this far back. He stopped and turned in a circle again, trying to get his bearings. No, no, this still wasn’t right. 

The sun had started to set and with each inch the sun sank in the sky, the more scared Yuka got. Before long, darkness started creeping through the trees and the child huddled against a tree. He was lost. He was lost and had no idea how to get home and there was no way to track him, either. He left no signs of which way he went, didn’t tell his mother what direction he was heading… how would they find it? Add on the fact he panicked and took off in a direction… that only made his situation worse. Trying to ignore the feelings of despair that washed over him, he pulled out his pocket knife and went to work making a little shelter. He pulled tree branches in, making a little roof in a small cluster of trees for himself and binding them with the laces on his boots for the night. After that, he tried making a fire, but the wood wouldn’t smolder, and he didn’t have any flint to spark kindling either.  
He tried rubbing sticks together, furiously running a rather hearty piece of wood into bark he peeled off a tree but still, no friction or spark. Frustrated, he threw the pieces he worked into the trees and climbed up onto the crooked trunk of one of the trees he dubbed as his own, sitting under the naked branches and pine needles and curled his furs and coat up around him tightly. The roof at least kept the snow from falling on him but it did nothing to keep the breeze out. Yuka tucked his legs in and cried, scared, alone, cold, and not sure how to get home. 

He must have dozed off at some point, only jerking awake when he felt something brush against him. Something soft? He looked down to see a poro settling down next to him, yawning and getting cozy. He smiled – they had a few poros back in their village, their neighbor keeping a herd of them in a paddock out back where they played and snoozed all day. Their neighbor said they served no real purpose other than being good pets and someone to snuggle, but in the dead of night in the arctic conditions, it seems they were also like mini heaters. Shifting around, Yuka hugged the little poro closer, who happily obliged to the snuggling and started to fall back asleep when a second one came. Then another. And another.

Before long, there were nearly ten poros clambering on top and around him, trilling at him gleefully and getting cozy. One already fell asleep and was snoring, his floppy pink tongue vibrating with each snore, only awakening with a soft scream when he nearly rolled off Yuka’s leg. Laughing, the child held as many as he could, welcoming their warmth and company. Being lost was a little less scary with these guys around. Just as he was getting comfortable, there was another noise. A sound of something really big heading in his direction and not bothering to keep quiet. Branches snapped, ice cracked, and Yuka held his breath. Whatever it was, it was heading directly for him. His eyes widened as something came into view. He couldn’t make it out through the darkness, but it was huge and square and very, very tall. The poros, however, didn’t seem to mind. One of them leapt off Yuka’s lap and took off into the darkness at the shape. The boy, scared for the little thing, threw his arm out to try and keep the ball of fluff from running off but the poro easily cleared his arm.

The figure got closer. With a little yelp, Yuka hid his face, crying, shivering, waiting for the scary monster to get him. The poros scattered, disappearing into the dark after their friend, the wave of cold rushing over the child like someone had thrown icy water on him. Finally, a voice broke the tense silence.

“And who is this? Why are you sleeping in tree?” 

The kid looked up, way up, to a man nearly twice as big as any man he had ever met. He squeaked in surprise and nearly tumbled off the tree. 

“Now, now, friend. No need to be scared.” The giant of a man squatted down. It was only then did Yuka see the poros running around him and one sitting on his shoulder, panting excitedly. The only thing bigger than this man was his impressive handlebar moustache and what looked like a shield strapped on his back. “The poros were so excited to show what they found, and what did they show Braum? You!” He laughed, reaching out and cupping the kid on the shoulder. Yuka felt like he should have had his spine driven through the trunk and into the ground.

“But Braum wonders… why are you here and not home? You look like boy not far from the tribe that lives near Yeti’s Vigil.” He states, rubbing his chin in thought.

“Yeah, that’s… that’s where I’m from.” Yuka’s small shaky voice confirmed the man’s suspicions. “Did.. you say your name is Braum?”

“Yes, that is my name!” Braum smiled at him, the corners of his eyes wrinkling in some sort of unclear joy. “And what is your name, friend?” 

“Yuka.” 

“Well, come, Yuka. I don’t think you belong in tree or hiding under poros for warmth!” He held out a massive hand to the child, still smiling at him. “You are safe with Braum. Come!” 

Hesitant, the kid took his hand, only to yelp as he was quickly lifted and tossed on the other’s shoulders. He tucked his legs around Braum’s head, holding on to the bald head in front of him in a panic. “Careful, new friend, and be kind! Braum is quite ticklish, so try not to move too much.” He joked, standing back up. Yuka gasped – he never thought he’d be this tall in his life! His head grazed the branches of the pine trees as Braum took off. They weren’t running, but the pace the mountain of a man had set was faster than his two little legs could have set for him. He turned back to see the gaggle of poros yipping at him, running in circles and sending him off with a good bye of their own.

They made quite a fair bit of headway, Braum making quick work of the few feet of snow on the ground as though it were nothing. He told Yuka about his adventures, where he had gone in the Freljord, what he had done, what he had seen. Then, he asked Yuka about what he did in his village, what he had seen and done. Before long, the child felt as though Braum were nothing more than an uncle he hadn’t talked to in years, chatting with him eagerly and excitedly. He told Braum all about the time he almost won a wrestling match with a nasty goat his father kept, how he ran into a kid named Nunu with a Yeti as a friend and how they played for a whole day before the duo moved on to keep looking for the kid’s mother, how he had learned to cook a roast leg of mutton the other day! Everything, no matter how big or small, delighted Braum who only urged the child to tell him more.

“When I get home-“ Yuka started, his chin resting on top of Braum’s head, “I’m gonna make myself a nice big tankard of warm goat milk.” He decided.

“Ahh, Braum’s favorite!” He laughed, his voice booming through the forest with a joyful mirth. “Nothing beats a hot glass of goat’s milk! Except, maybe, a second glass.” 

Before long, they popped out of the dense pine wood, the hills glistening in the moonlight with fresh snow and Yuka’s village below. Campfires glistened with an orange glow and the smell of roasted meat drifted up toward them. Adjusting the basket of berries on his back, Yuka was overjoyed. “Thank you so much!”

“It was no trouble! But promise Braum two things. One, you stay with your mother from now on, yes?” 

“I will!” Yuka promised.

“Good. Braum will not always be there to help you, but I will try. Until you are more familiar with where you are, do not put yourself in danger you cannot handle.”

“Okay, and, what’s the second promise?”

Braum reached up, taking Yuka off his shoulders and putting him on the ground, the child sinking up to his thighs in snow. “We have one more adventure.” He removed the shield off his back and the kid finally got a better look at it. It was less of a shield and looked more like a dented door, if he was honest. “These hills are fine for walking, but-“ He threw the curved metal down. “-Where’s the fun in walking?” He held out his hand again, Yuka quickly taking it. “Time for a last bit of fun!” 

He took a running start, scooping Yuka up in his great arms and leaping onto the shield. They took off, riding and spinning down the snowy hills. Braum steered the best he could while keeping Yuka safe and in place on the shield, and the two laughed and yelled in glee until they came to a halt just outside the village. “Thank you, that was fun!” Yuka said, clapping his hands and climbing out of Braum’s lap. 

“Go on, go find your mother. She is worried. Mothers usually are.” Braum got off his shield and squatted down again, opening his arms. “Remember your promise to Braum, yes?” Yuka ran into his arms, giving him a warm hug.

“I’ll remember!” He swore, laughing at he felt Braum mess up his hair lovingly before pulling the hood back up over his head.

“Go.” He said, pushing him toward the orange glow behind some huts. Yuka took off, rounding around the nearest hut and into view of the village.

“YUKA!” Aput threw the blanket over her lap to the side as she got up from alongside the large communal bonfire outside a circle of huts. “We were all so worried! No one was able to find you and I had thought the worst had happened-!” She scooped him up, holding him close and sobbing into the fur on his hood gratefully. “Promise me you won’t run off again, okay? And, and I promise to keep a better eye on you, too!” 

“Of course, Mom!” He said, kicking his little legs. “Besides, I already made a promise not to run off again!”

“Oh?” She peeled her face away from him, blinking tears out of her eyes. “To who?” 

“Someone named Braum! He was the one who found me and brought me home! Mom, you should have seen him, he was huge!” He squeaked, throwing his arms up to emphasize just how big he was. His mother, however, fell silent as did the rest of the people behind him. “What’s wrong?” He asked.

“You met Braum?” One girl his age asked, swallowing a hunk of meat she had been chewing on. Others looked in interest, one man letting his jaw drop in surprise.

“Yeah, he’s right over here!” He pushed his way out of his mom’s arms and ran around to the other side of the hut, some people following in interest, his mother leading them. “We used his shield as a sled down the hill, we-“ He turned the corner and stopped. Braum was nowhere to be seen, the only indicator that the child wasn’t telling a tall tale was the large luge-like path from the woods to where the ride had ended and large boot marks in the snow leading back up the hill and into the pine forest.

“I think it’s time we tell you some stories about the hero and man known as Braum.” An elder said, smiling at the child, putting his hand on the kid’s back and leading him back toward the fire for what promised to be a long night of storytelling.


End file.
